Yes.

"Our father may not have been able to maintain our kingdom's ties to the past, but he believed in them fiercely. Too long have we let them wither and die, and for what? What else do we actually have? We are House Moonwell. We are the past. The past, and the future. Forever."

"From the beginning, to the end," whispered Alain.

"From the beginning to the end." Adicus nodded. "I will go to the temple."

"Then I had best prepare, shouldn't I?" she said, her voice hollow. She squeezed his arm once and then withdrew.

"Alain–" he began, but she was already gone. The door shut behind her. "Damn it all, Alain."

Adicus ran a hand through his hair. Of course, he knew her misgivings well – they were Moonwell siblings, they knew everything about each other – and he understood. Truly, he did, because he shared them. The sister to a king is no longer a sister in name, but so much more, and that was terrifying. What would their relationship become? How much would it change? Part of him was afraid nothing would ever be the same again, and it might not be, but a greater part of him was sure that, just like every other time they've faced a challenge, they would tackle it together. Always.

Hopefully, she knew that too.

Regardless, he couldn't chase after her to find out. He didn't have the time. His destiny awaited.

The moonlit silhouette of the ancestral temple loomed over Adicus as he ascended it's staircase, ushered inside by an assortment of acolytes.

"A good omen," one of them said, gazing up at the sky. "We are blessed by the full moon."

Inside, they stripped him of his clothes and bathed him, using incense and rough rocks to scrape the imperfections out of his skin. They chanted together, singing old songs while they drew ritual marks across his naked flesh, circling and spiraling around his limbs. They all prayed as one, wishing the new king a long and successful rule, many healthy children, and a happy kingdom, and then their job was done. The acolytes left, leaving Adicus alone. Alone with the moon.

Before him, a pool sat in a large basin at the bottom of the temple's tallest tower, illuminated by an opening in the ceiling that made the water look like liquid silver. Adicus knelt in the basin, submerging his body below the waist. Far above him he could see the full moon clearly, blanketing him in it's glow, and in some strange way that comforted him, like knowing he was supported by an old friend.

As prepared as he ever would be, Adicus shifted his legs once, exhaled, and closed his eyes.

"Ancestors," he said, "I ask to be recognized."

"And recognized you are, Adicus Moonwell. Know that you need only ever ask. Blood will always know blood."

Adicus opened his eyes, and just like that the world he knew had vanished. He knelt in a wide pool circled by an amphitheater of ghostly apparitions that extended outwards for as far as the eye could see. Hundreds of them, thousands, all of their voices speaking as one.

"We know of your doubt, Adicus Moonwell, but do not be ashamed. You are here, and like you we have all been tested by the pressures of the world. Take heart in overcoming your doubt, my child, for you may yet be the greatest of us all."

Adicus lifted his head. "What do you mean?"

Their voices whispered like the wind, or a sigh. "It has taken us time, perhaps too much, but we understand that change may be necessary for the line to continue. The world has progressed, and we must progress with it. No longer can we be a stone, resolute, but a river ever winding. In this path, a marriage of the old world and the new, we will give you guidance."

Adicus swallowed. "I am ready to be guided."

"Then heed our words."